The Nursery
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. Jayne is fixing up the cabin next door to the captain's ready for the new arrival. His ever watchful shadow is with him. Thanks for reading, and reviews are shiny.


"… and with her hand she comforted me,  
Made all my worries rush away,  
And soft kisses she poured on my lips,  
Until I saw the soft start of the day …"

Jayne was singing softly as he fitted the sliding door into the runners, his deep voice filling the room pleasantly, putting the finishing touches to the nursery before it was time.

"I don't think those are the right words," River said, sitting on the ladder into Mal and Freya's bunk, her feet through the rungs.

Jayne didn't turn. "They're fine as far as I'm concerned."

"But you don't kiss anyone on the mouth."

The big man sighed. "It's a song. Ain't the truth. Just someone put some pretty words together and made a tune to fit. Ain't meant to be real."

"But you're thinking about someone."

Jayne threw down the screwdriver and turned, his face dark. "You stay outta my brain. I told you before. There ain't nothing in there for you."

"Why are you angry with me?" she asked, putting her legs out straight and leaning back as if she was on a swing, and any moment she'd start to move backwards and forwards, her hair blowing in the breeze.

Jayne exhaled noisily. "Didn't say I was angry with you. Just don't want you walkin' through my memories in your bare feet."

River closed her eyes. "Bare feet. Naked feelings."

"You havin' one of those days again?" he asked, screwing his eyes up just a little. If he squinted enough, it really looked like she was pumping into the air.

"I might be." She smiled. "Then again, I could just be saner than the rest of you."

"That ain't possible."

"So sane I've gone all the way through and come out the other side." She looked at him and laughed. "Sanity is a circle … you just come back to where you started."

Jayne leaned over to pick up the screwdriver again and she admired the definition in the biceps muscle, the way it was so smooth under the skin. He peered at her. "What you looking at?" he asked.

"Power," she said. "To make or break."

This time he sighed. "Yep, one of those days." He turned back to his work.

"Will it be ready in time?" she asked, sitting more upright and putting her arms around the ladder.

"Frey ain't due for nigh on two weeks. 'N' I seem to recall hearing first babies're often late." He tightened one of the screws, pushing it below the level of the runner so it didn't catch.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Just 'cause everyone thinks I'm brain-dead, don't mean I am."

"I don't."

He paused. "No, well, that ain't never been the problem between us."

"So what has?"

He ran his fingers along the runner, feeling for any slight imperfections in the metal. "Guess it's mainly that you're crazy."

"Not so much any more. Not since Miranda," she pointed out.

"So there're degrees of craziness?" He looked over his shoulder at her. "What was the degree when you came at me with a butcher's knife?"

She nodded sadly. "On a scale of one to ten, probably about nine and a half."

"Ain't that the truth."

"I did apologise about that. Twice."

"Still got the scar." He shook his head. "So what would ten on that scale mean?"

"Killing everyone on board." She said it matter-of-factly, no artifice.

"Guess it would," he agreed.

"Selling us to the Alliance comes out about six."

He froze. "I think I apologised about that too."

"And there's been a lot of water under the bridge since then." She gazed at him, her eyes huge and dark, her hair laying on her pale shoulders, her dress ready to be peeled from her skin …

Jayne swallowed. No, that wasn't the way of things. No matter what had happened at Miss Buford's, that other girl getting into his thoughts like that, there weren't no way he was …

"I won't be coming again," she said softly, dropping her eyes.

"Good." Then he looked confused. "How come?"

"It upsets you."

He bristled. "Look, moonbrain, nothing you do upsets me. I mean …" He blinked a couple of times. "I mean it ain't like you get in the way. Much. And if it … if it helps you, then I don't mind."

"You shout at me."

"Hell, girl, I shout at everyone!"

"Not Freya."

"Well, no, maybe not –"

"Or Kaylee."

"Look, I see where you're headed with –"

"Or Zoe."

"Zoe'd kill me."

"You shout at Hank," River allowed. "And Simon." She put her head on one side. "He's my brother, you know."

"Ain't likely to forget that."

"He's seen you naked."

For a moment he wondered where she was going with this, then he chuckled. "You like sayin' things just to see what happens, don't'cha?" he asked, leaning on the door frame. "Seeing what thoughts come up in people's minds."

She grinned. "It can be fun. But I don't do it with people I don't like." She leaned back again.

"Look, you be careful there," Jayne said. "That ladder ain't meant to be played on. That there brother you mentioned ain't gonna be too pleased if –"

"Like this?" she interrupted, letting go with one hand so that she hung even further backwards. Only the metal was damp to the touch where she'd been breathing on it. Her grip slipped and she fell backwards, hitting the bulkhead behind with a resounding thud.

"Oh, _tah mah duh hwoon dahn_," Jayne said, dropping the screwdriver again and hurrying forward.

River was lying on the floor, staring up at the hatch, her feet still caught in the rungs. "Ouch," she murmured.

"You hurt?" Jayne asked, going down onto his heels next to her.

"Define hurt."

"Anything broken?"

She shook her head, then gave a little mew of pain. "My head hurts."

"Great," Jayne muttered, putting his arms under her back. "Now that prissy doc's gonna think it's my fault." He went to lift her, then paused. "You tell me if you feel anything wrong, okay?"

She nodded.

He picked her up easily, his muscles barely feeling the strain. Carrying her to the bunk he put her down carefully, pulling her dress demurely down to her knees from where it had rucked up, exposing her toned thighs.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You want me to get your bro?"

"No," she said. "I don't think so."

He reached under her head and felt her skull. She winced as he touched a tender spot.

"You're gonna have a lump the size of an egg," he said, his fingers pressing gently. "Still think you oughtta get the doc to take a look. Make sure you ain't broken anything."

"The only thing broken is your heart," she said softly.

"Ain't nothing wrong with my heart," he said, this time not feeling anger, just resignation. "You gotta put all that kinda thing outta your head. People get by. They move on. Love ain't the be all and end all of things."

"It was once."

"Well, maybe I grew up."

"Still a little boy inside."

He stared down at her, his hand still under her head, and had the almost overwhelming impulse to put his lips to hers, to see if she tasted like the liquorice he'd always imagined.

He stood up abruptly. "Ain't a boy, River," he said. "And you oughtta be careful. Sayin' things like that, could cause you a heap of trouble."

"Not with you," she said, sitting up slowly. "I'm safe with you."

"Maybe you are," Jayne acknowledged, pushing away the temptation to press her back into the bed. "And maybe you ain't. Just saying, I'm a man, and I got urges like other men. You don't want to be playin' with 'em, is all."

"I'm sorry." She looked like she was going to cry, and suddenly the big man was ashamed of himself.

"Nothin' to be sorry about," he said, reaching out to pat her shoulder then pulling back at the last moment. "'Cause we're friends, ain't we?"

She flickered a smile. "Friends."

"'Kay." He glanced back over his shoulder towards the nursery. "I gotta get this done, otherwise Mal'll be the one doing the shoutin', so I'd better get on."

"They're going to be happy here," River said quietly. "Three in one. A family."

"I reckon you're right." The mercenary looked down at her. "You gonna stay there? Watch me work?"

The young woman nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Don't mind. Just don't do anythin' stupid again, okay?"

"I won't."

Jayne nodded, picking up his screwdriver once again from the floor and turning back to the runners.

"… and in the dawn she left me wanting,  
Passed away with the shades of the star-filled night,  
Not thinking of my kisses or wishings,  
Just run from my arms in the pale day's light …"

And River wiped surreptitiously at the tear in her eye.


End file.
